Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Irrational.

Hiding from medical care when in desperate need of it was irrational. Knowing this did not change the screaming voice in Donnie’s head that said they were done. A switch had been flipped. The shields were up. A whispered promise to himself not to shut down yet. Walking out onto a balance beam clouded in fog. Every foot forward becoming a wish for a solid platform. The goalpost kept lurching deeper into the fog and tilting the beam like a spinning log. Steer the ship back into the portal and he could be done- Except they were stopped. Fine, fight through alien mind exploration and save Raph even though it took everything out of him- Except they still had to defeat Kraang. That was acceptable, they could push Kraang to the other side of the portal and close the door- Except Leon put himself on the wrong side of said portal- Except now Mikey was making a portal- Then of course it became save Leon at any cost. Get Leon medical care. Stem the bleeding, close the gashes, get Barry to their home now- Watch his brother seize up and choke on blood- Become a different person to save someone you love-

Was the beam supposed to bow so deep? When it abruptly snapped it clapped every sensation back into Donnie. An echo of the snap feeling louder than when it happened originally. What hell did he live in where the reverb melded and collided into everything at once?

In the farthest subway car here lies the moth crippled by an echo. Eardrums bleeding. Nostrils flaring. The worst car to be in with stuck windows and one entrance. Did a little sanity leak out after the fall? Did he maybe squint through the fog of irrational thought and sabotage his own escape? A pain, a knot, a lump curled in his throat as shadows splashed the windows. No longer capable of pushing through for another unattainable goal. Blood thick and sticky on the back of his thighs. The skin over his shell pulled up and wilted. A fingernail pushing the edge of a sticker up up UP . Miles away from being a feeling he could feel and closer to a fact his brain didn't want to open.

“Purple is scared and he will hurt himself to get away from us even though he is cornered,” Splinter said, his voice grave and tired.

Donnie’s shut downs were exhausting on his family. Especially if they deemed him too unstable to be left alone. Guilt swarmed him but it didn’t change him. There was a fantasy version of himself that he wished could go to his father and submit to the medical assistance he was in dire need of.

“And we're sure he doesn't have a saw on that Battle Shell?” Raph asked around his own pain and exhaustion.

“It's a spare from the tank,” Mikey said, smaller, shakier. He should be in bed but with Leo down he must have felt obligated to help. “It's just armor. He threw his techbo at us.”

He mostly remembers the cocktail of relief and regret he had at throwing his only weapon. A cry for help because if Donnie really wanted to keep his family away for as long as possible his key to mystic powers was his best course. The conversation outside the subway car became fuzzy. The door jiggled but Donnie had locked it. They had keys and this was a subway car without a deadlock.

Inevitable capture.

Panic was a desperate bass pulling against hooks in her cheeks. Screaming and thrashing into open air. Donnie’s fingernails broke prying boxes open, his vision blurred from missing both contacts. Stolen by something that shouldn't have been touching his eye like that. Reaching around to cup the back of his eyeballs. His prize was torn from a box labelled “Mikey's Room”; an exact-o knife.

It boiled over in his throat. A low whine begging himself to not do this. To drop the knife, to let it happen, to give up the fight because his enemy was not the people outside this subway car. He wanted care, he wanted help. A scared little thing in his core cried for home. He became the scared little creature in his belly. Twisted up with anxiety he snapped the knife in half sending bits of blade to the metal floor. No rugs here. A tinkling chime before the irrational fear crashed into him. His only defense was gone. Why did he snap the one lifeline he had? Anger exploded as he hit himself in the head as hard as possible. Blood leaking from his ears. Blood leaking from his ears blood leaking from his ears and leaking from his ears and leaking from his ears-

“He's already hurting himself-” Raph panicked over a mess like him. “Oh thank god,” he breathed out just as suddenly.

Donnie knew knew knew in his bones who was here. Draxum with his vines and magic. It was Donnie who insisted they get in touch with Draxum for the fissures caused by Mikey's portal. Maybe he did it for himself too.

“It's surprising he can still use his right arm,” Draxum said, voice distorted by subway glass. 

“Purple is panicked and not thinking straight. When I open the door you must grab him without letting him hurt himself more,” Splinter said, it came through pleading.

Donnie traded hitting his head for gripping it tightly. Adrenaline was wearing off completely and the pain in his shell was climbing higher and higher. Peeling up layer after layer and picking off the glue.

The keys in the lock had him scrambling to hide behind boxes. Blood making his fingers stick to the cardboard. Some tumble over spilling possessions unburied from their last home. For a peaceful moment he felt the quiet of his old lab, staring down at his old drill bit set now open and scattered on the floor among exact-o knife shards. Distantly the door opened with a rough screech. Too close and personal Donnie's body was engulfed in purple vines. Jolted upwards just a hair before the ceiling. Expertly twisting around his limbs and cradling his neck and head before rapidly ripping him from the subway car. It was dropping into a waterslide. The momentary feeling of zero gravity before he was lowered to the ground outside the car. Insides sloshing.

For once Donnie was glad that Draxum’s vines had a rough dried corn husk feel and not a wet silky texture. As much as the restraint pulled a squeal of pure panic from his throat it stopped there.

“Donnie! Hold on hold on I have you I swear I have you,” Raph's gravelly voice begged for him to use logic. Trading Draxum’s vines for the huge comforting hands of his oldest brother. Tight around his biceps and letting Donnie claw back at him with weak little fingers and bent backwards nails.

“Leon!” A plea thrown towards the medbay.

Raph shook his head and lowered his face to be in Donnie's line of sight. “He can't do this. We have to. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Donnie. I'm so sorry. You're safe little brother. I promise times a million.”

The vines had his legs from ankle to upper thigh. Forcing him to stand up on his knees on a pad of thick vine guarding his shins from the cement floor. A position that would allow them to care for his shell if it weren't for the armor.

And there they would have a problem.

Donnie could trick himself into a cornered weaponless position but there was no mind game to give the code to release his battle shell. Yet his father still stood by Raph and asked him to do the impossible.

“Purple. We need you to release your battle shell.”

Frantic shaking of his whole body was the only response he could give. While Splinter felt around the edges of his shell only making his panic worse. Searching like the ship had. While Mikey volunteered ways the battle shell might come off. They eventually found the camouflaged keypad under the metal nuchal scute behind his neck. (He didn’t have scutes, but his armor did.) A vine cupped the back of his head like a neck pillow and forced him to stare down at the floor. It tore another cry of pure panic from him. Raph rubbed circles with his thumbs on Donnie’s biceps.

“Casey his ears are bleeding,” Raph said, now sitting crisscrossed in front of Donnie.

“It’s possible he ruptured his eardrums. Don't worry about applying pressure,” Casey said.

The vine around his neck was perfectly firm. It wasn't constricting his airway and when he swallowed there was a give that allowed his Adam’s apple to bob down and back up. Some tension left his neck and Draxum allowed the vine to loosen more. When Donnie leaned forward to press his forehead to Raph's he was allowed the movement. Oddly enough no one asked him for the code now that the keypad was located.

“I explained this to Leo, he gave me the code-”

Panic broke through again as April started pressing the code in. Her words fizzled out into static. They were taking his battle shell off they were taking it off-

“No no no no please I don't want anyone to touch it please guys please-”

“Donnie we have to,” Raph whispered. “You know this.”

With a click he felt the battle shell's clamps release. His armor now just resting on his shoulders. 

“Can it be Leo please Raph get Leo please please,” Donnie whispered at the blurry floor. Then the weight lifted from his shoulders and it was over. He bucked with all his strength. “NO NO GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY-” his voice popped and cracked too quickly. His throat was sore like he had been screaming for days not minutes. The vine around his neck fell away.

“It won't hurt Donnie,” April soothed. “Your big sister has your back.”

“LEO!” his voice crackled in his throat painfully. Tinted with metal. Blood dripping from his ears down his throat. “LEO PLEASE!!”

“Donnie stop!” Raph snapped, shaking Donnie’s arms. “Listen to me Leo is safe and stable but he can’t be up right now. You need treatment now.”

Fuck that it was only ever supposed to be Leo. His brother was never supposed to be so hurt he couldn't help Donnie when he needed it the most- and right now he needed it to be Leo more than anything in the world. It wasn't fair it wasn't fair it wasn't fair it came pouring out of him in screaming hot tears and useless tugging.

“How can I help?” Mikey asked, both arms mummified in white bandages and held up against his chest. Trembling like a leaf in the path of a big fat caterpillar.

Splinter hesitated, directing the chaos around Donnie. “Just stay back. Don't hurt your hands. Purple will be okay. I'll be right back.”

Awful. Everything was awful and Donnie was going to start biting which would make things more awful for everyone. “Get the fuck away from me!” he snarled when April started massaging his left hand. His right was covered in fissures and burned. It tingled deeply now as if needles were poking in one side and out through the other.

“You're okay,” April said, completely unoffended as between her hands, Raph's hand, and Draxum’s vines they positioned his left arm elbow pit up.

The lick of an alcohol pad turned Donnie's pupils to pinpricks. Fear taking away all words. His breathing harsh and erratic, he felt his mouth open and his lips peel up when a vine captured his head and forced his jaw closed. He screamed in the back of his throat and breathed behind clenched teeth. When he ran out of air he sucked in hard and screamed again. Over and over. Tears streaming down his face and spraying off his peeled up lips.

“Here,” Casey whispered, another pair of human hands on his arm. Larger and more calloused than April's. There was a sharp bite as the IV was set. “God, you guys have like all the drugs. I’ve only read about these.”

Draxum’s vines prevented him from looking at what they were doing to his left arm. There was the noise of an IV stand and the tubes hanging down. Donnie’s own screams exploded in his head and the pain alone made him trade that for hissing.

“The guy in charge of keeping our medical supplies up can make portals into pharmaceutical factories,” Raph snorted. “What's that?” he asked at the very same instant ice flooded into Donnie's left arm. Shooting up into his shoulder and chest.

“It’s okay D,” April whispered. “That one is going to really help us all out.”

“Just get Leo. Please just get Leo,” he begged, just knowing that was a sedative. It wouldn’t be the first time he had one forced on him. “I'll let Leo do it-”

“That was a sedative. This is the painkiller,” another injection, burning for a second before fading into nothing. “Then there's lidocaine injections for his shell,” April explained.

“So glad you guys have those for him,” Casey mumbled. “Not really a thing where I'm from.”

Already he felt that lead body feeling triple. Exhausted and tired. He felt his iron tight grip on April's hand loosen, he didn't remember holding her hand in the first place. It happened somewhere in the cloud of panic.

“Please get Leo please I just want it to be Leo-,” Donnie swallowed the metal taste coating his throat. “He promised it would always be him, he promised he…” his voice was so weak.

Talking sapped him of energy. He hung his head down and leaned forward to catch his ragged breath on Raph's plastron.

“Red, put this by his face,” Splinter whispered on Donnie's left.

Fabric. Breathable workout fabric was draped on Raph's left shoulder and fell down around the sides of Donnie’s head. It was Leo's basketball jersey and it was ripe.

“A shirt?” Raph asked quietly.

Splinter gave Raph's shell a few pats that Donnie felt bounced into his skull. “It's from Blue's laundry hamper. Trust me.”

Several years ago Donnie wanted a sun lamp so he was going to do everything in his power to make a sun lamp. To do this he needed a combination of UVBs and heat bulbs, all scrounged up from museums and zoos. When experimenting with what distance from a laying platform the combination lamp should hang, Donnie used the only measuring device that could give him the best data: himself. After several trials with the sun lamp Donnie wanted to do one more where he used the lamp to bask for as long as he could to determine a safe usage time. Two hours in the bulb exploded peppering his softshell with microscopic pieces of glass. When the shock of the bulb exploding after two hours of use despite being on for longer periods before faded: Donnie was left with a glass infused shell. The pain never took root in his mind. He could never remember how all that glass felt. Only the stomach curdling panic that there was glass inside him. Sharp fragments that could never be removed. He was Raph’s glitter infused silly putty dropped on a dirty floor. His shell would never be a hundred percent him .

Fear of this over anything had him begging for Leo to get the glass out. Every single piece. With tweezers or scalpels or needles- It didn’t matter the glass had to come out. With Leo's nonstop talking about how removing the glass was the world's worst version of Operation and that Donnie could at least make a buzzer noise for the immersion. Leo was so damn competitive that he would never leave glass in Donnie’s softshell. That would mean losing the game Donnie invented for him. Never once did Leo pin down Donnie’s mistake or lambast him about his stupid decisions. Raph would have words later once Leo was done with the activity Donnie dropped on him at four in the morning.

Splinter probably never knew.

Leo got all the glass. A slam dunk with every release of his tweezers. A happy little quip about the light bulb getting nervous as if it had skin in the game he just came up with. If he talked enough, maybe Donnie wouldn't pick up on how badly his twin's hands shook. How his voice quivered after repeatedly swallowing. He was only nine.

For the next hour Donnie lived in a memory of tweezers and shattered light bulbs. Snout buried in a very sour basketball shirt that smelled like getting body slammed by Leo after a four hour game. A brother that wasn’t here right now with jokes and light hearted mutterings. What was there was Raph. Alive and safe in their home and while his grip was bruise tight it was love and care. April and Splinter massaged his hands and braced him for injections into his shell. His baby brother sitting at his hip and leaning his head against his side, bandaged hands trembling against his chest. Fat caterpillars munched away at the border of Donnie's shell or maybe that was the start of a weird dream.

They did not put Donnie in the medbay, they carried him to his room and had him lay on his stomach. Donnie had groggy memories of dissolving into the hushed reassurances from Raph. Low murmurs that everyone was okay, the stitches were over, they were home and safe. Accepting that uneasily Donnie found sleep. A hard sixteen hours of sleep fogged by pain medication that had him waking up feeling like four bags of sand tied together by their corners. How was it possible to feel like wet sand and stiff as a board?

It was when they roused him to eat- (two plain grilled cheese sandwiches made with plain white bread and that individually wrapped plastic textured American cheese only he likes) -that they discovered “bruises” dotting every inch of his body. With pressing and prodding Casey and April said these weren't bruises dotting every inch of his skin in penny sized marks, they were broken blood vessels presumably from suction. That didn't surprise Donnie; he had a very clear sensory memory of every little sting from that alien console. No area of his body was spared meaning his groin and armpits hurt the worse and he didn't want anyone to know. Thankfully through implications everyone knew what was under his shorts was the same as everywhere else. No need to explain it.

Mikey told the story of the alien console and what it did so Donnie could focus on chewing his very plain grilled cheese sandwich. Guesstimation filled the rest of the story in because Donnie was never giving details. Partly because he was still mortified by his behavior from earlier. Having those episodes of irrational panic, anger, or frustration were always embarrassing. He was mortified that they placated him with a piece of dirty laundry from Leo's room. These freakouts came without reason at their worst, and at their best there was a trigger like almost dying or almost losing Leo or Alien Invasion to explain him.

There was no explanation for why that only happened to him. He didn't understand how his brothers could just shake things off.

The grilled cheese sandwiches took a lot of effort to eat. Every swallow was sharp and prickly, feeling like a knot of barbed wire. His family knew when he was sick, injured, or upset his ability to eat was diminished and they always tried to make him something easy to get down. A lot of trial and error over the years had helped them come up with several safe food items. This dinner was specifically for him because he could smell broccoli and spinach and shrimp as a real stir fry dinner was being made for everyone else. The people who didn't lose their mind at the idea of their battle shell being removed.

He was on a foot rest in the living room. Hunched over with his dinner plate balanced on his knobby knees. Eating took away the hollow pit in him but replaced it with the worst sore throat of his life. Did he gargle a staple and thumbtack smoothie? Before he had been breathing from both his nose and mouth, now as he chewed crispy buttery bread and melted cheese into a satiating bolus his nose-only inhales burned. His ear holes itched too, like when using his tongue to itch the back of his throat. He was uselessly digging his knuckle into his ear slit when he heard Raph sigh exasperated and tired. He stood from where he had been watching Donnie eat without comment.

“No, look I'm fine,” Leo said, speech slightly slurred as he came from the direction of the medbay subway car. He was trying to end the argument he was walking towards before it could begin. “Guys seriously you're killing me-” Donnie turned in time to see him stumble but between Casey and the IV pole he caught himself. “-look I'm walking in mostly a straight line,” he laughed, eyes wide from his almost fall.

He was in horrible shape. No part of his shell was visible he was wearing a vest of gauze. He had started bruising up and down all of his limbs. Gashes and cuts. A broken left index finger and his right leg was in a straight splint. Both eyes were black and nearly swollen shut. His top and bottom lips split open giving him huge swollen hotdog lips.

Raph rushed in to help. “Leo!”

“I'm so sorry Master Raphael he talked me into it!” Casey said, guilt spread across his face. There was no clear way to painlessly support Leo’s weight but Casey was trying his best.

“Don't call me Master-,” Raph snapped his mouth shut and screamed in the back of his throat. “And Leo you are not walking fine you're leaning on Casey and your IV pole-”

“If anything I'm walking Casey to the couch,” Leo pivoted, stumbling past Raph and into the living room. Donnie silently turned his body to keep Leo in focus. “Come along my student,” he said cheerily to Casey.

With his foot (and surprisingly good balance) Casey reached his leg around to the other side of Leo, dipped down and prevented the wheels of his IV pole from catching the carpet. Motion like a ballerina dipping down while twirling on skates. “Again I am so sorry,” Casey told Raph, Donnie, and now Mikey who was pulled in by Raph's exasperated throat scream. “Technically he's my Sensei I can't say no. I know he should be in bed. I’m sorry.”

He sounded so sorry. He sounded close to tears. Everyone’s frustration and fear clouded up the room.

Through the drama Donnie ate the last half of his second sandwich. Rubbing the crumbs from his left hand by rubbing his fingertips together. His right arm was mittened in white gauze up to just over his bicep making it kind of useless.

“Leo you are abusing a relationship you have yet to build with your future pupil for your own gain-” Raph started.

“Raph can we, like, not do this in front of my number one student? My prized protege?” Leo whined, swollen eyes on the couch to the side of the living room. It sat three and had little end tables on the left and right arm rests. “I don't want him to grow up in a dysfunctional home environment-”

“I'm almost eighteen,” Casey pleaded. “It’s too late, maybe go back to the medbay?”

Leo dismissed this with a bandaged flick of his left hand. Momentarily letting go of the IV pole with his stunted right arm (which was the only undamaged part of him. His prosthetic arm was totalled.) Both the bandages on his left arm were just a few layers while Mikey, Donnie, and Raph had padding making their limbs pretty useless outside of resting on tops of thighs or armrests. Leo's bandages cover scab and already clotted marks. There were awful purple and brown bruises on his thighs and around his neck. They sprouted up fast and became super dark, it made Donnie wonder if Leo was hit harder and that was why the bruises looked older than they should. The idea collapsed when he realized a bruise that bad would also fracture his femur, or they'd be worried about internal bleeding.

“Hush my student, the couch is here,” Leo said, legs wobbling. He was somehow putting weight on his right leg despite the splint. “I'm very proud of you for listening to me, your Sensei, and no one else,” he said, collapsing on the couch with a scrunched up face. “This is very healthy!” he wheezed painfully.

Raph came over and pushed a footrest in front of Leo’s seat. With his unbandaged right hand he grabbed both of Leo’s ankles and set them on the foot rest. “Casey, he's normally not this pompous, we swear.”

“Eehhhhhh,” Mikey vocalized from behind Donnie, his thickly bandaged arms cradled to his chest.

The new human teenager they all recently adopted (with no family meeting Donnie would like to add) shook his head. “It's cool. Believe me I can read his tone,” he said, with a fondness that gave him several Donnie points. 

Hmm… ten, ten Donnie points.

Unfortunately Casey had five billion negative Donnie points for closing the portal after Leo. He sat his empty grilled cheese plate to the side and tried to swallow the scratchiness in the back of his throat.

“Who made it so blurry and bright in here guys?” Leo asked, swatting at the dimly lit living room. “It's dinner not open heart surgery turn things down a little and get that guy who's talking right now to shut up-”

“That guy is you,” Raph deadpanned, as Leo continued to complain about all the noise he was making. “Nevermind,” Raph said, turning to the small frail human boy with negative four billion nine hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety Donnie points under his right arm. “Casey, do you want shrimp stir fry or a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Together the duo left. Donnie bounced his legs waiting for them to be gone.

“I've never had either,” Casey said, unsure.

“Okay man,” Raph sighed.

“You guys eat shrimp yokai?”

As soon as it felt safe to move without being scolded, Donnie vaulted to the couch to sit next to Leo. His twin blinked at him slowly before frowning.

“Donnie you should be in bed dude,” Leo said, words tired and lazy. “Oh god what happened-” he hissed through his teeth taking Donnie’s chin and turning his head to view what was the most obvious injury: the bursted blood capillaries under every inch of his skin.

Mikey sat on Leo’s footrest, arms still held uneasily up. Broken open skin from mystic wounds didn’t feel good in slings. “It's a sore topic. We're taking care of it. Nothing life threatening, it just looks real bad.”

If Leo believed that he didn’t show it. Instead he took Donnie’s left arm and twisted it around to see every inch. Even his cuticles had marks on them. The only place he had any relief was under the bandages of his right arm and his shell. Some numbing agent kept the itchy sore away from him.

“From piloting the ship?” Leo asked, eyes barely open for all the bruising on his face and staring at Donnie’s nails.

Donnie nodded, throat too sore to talk even if today’s and yesterday's experiences weren’t completely too much. Leo’s teeth began to grind so Donnie took his hand away from Leo and flicked him in the cheek lightly. It broke the tension and suddenly the living room smelled strongly of shrimp stir fry. Once Leo had food in his hand he was shoveling rice and company into his mouth. Plate held up to his face with his left hand (broken finger held up out of the way) and his smaller right arm equipped with a spoon to shovel everything into his mouth. Everyone stared for a few moments as Leo was often like Donnie after a hard mission: Picking at his food and struggling to take more than a few bites. Here was Leo devouring half his stir fry in thirty seconds.

“Want seconds, Leo?” Raph asked, sitting in dad’s recliner. Any other day this would be a huge no but Baron and Splinter were eating in the kitchen at the breakfast bar.

Leo nodded while putting the plate against his open mouth and using his other hand to push the last three bites of food into his mouth. He held out his empty plate to Raph who quickly stood up and took it back to the kitchen.

The shock wore off and Donnie turned to look at Mikey. His little brother was struggling with the fork as his hands were both just gauze mittens. Donnie held out his hand for Mikey’s fork and watched the way his brother’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Donnie no it’s okay, Raph said, Raph said he can help me finish when he’s done eating-” Mikey said, fork in his hand trembling. “-it's okay I know you can barely stand the smell.”

Adamant that he could handle the smell he kept his hand out for Mikey’s fork. His brother broke and offered the fork after a moment. Raph returned with seconds for Leo. Donnie loaded up a full fork-load of stir fry with a bit of everything and fed Mikey dinner one bite at a time.

Leo ate four large plates of shrimp stir fry and drank three glasses of water. After a few minutes he staggered to the bathroom while pushing away all offers for help.

The subway car deemed the “medbay” had two beds. One at each end against sealed off doors. Splinter’s room was on one side, Leo’s bedroom was on the other. The other track had Mikey, Raph, and Donnie’s room. There were then several off the rail subway cars that made up the remainder of their game room, and storage. A Dojo was created by making a platform over Donnie and Raph’s room on top of their cars then spanning over the wide space between the tracks on top of Leo’s subway car and the medbay. There was a metal staircase on each side and a railing around the entire dojo at April’s insistence. 

Only one turtle needed to be in the medbay: Leo. Despite only spending seventeen long minutes in the prison dimension he had an infected crack in his carapace that only an antibiotic drip could help. When bedtime crawled around Donnie agreed to retreat to his room, but instead used the second level dojo as a way to sneak between the tracks and slip into the medbay. Upon which his twin didn’t even look up from his phone before lifting the edge of his blankets to invite Donnie into his bed.

Now that everyone had been home for over twenty four hours the adrenaline was completely gone. There was so much Donnie wanted to ask Leo but could only muster stomping over to Leo’s bed and angrily clutching his stupid twin around the middle. Pinning Leo’s left arm between them and allowing Donnie’s fissured right arm to rest on top of the blankets.

Leo sighed and allowed this. Lips swelling to join his eyes.

Without a voice (a combination of his awful sore throat and being overwhelmed) he had to show Leo he was unbelievably upset with him through mental will alone. He pressed his itchy forehead into Leo’s plastron then glared up at the underside of his brother’s chin.

“I can feel you glaring at me,” Leo said, still scrolling his phone. With his left arm snug around Donnie he had to use his right hand to scroll his phone. It was awkward because he couldn't wear his prosthetic to help him overcome the size difference between his hand and his cellular device. Yet Leo persisted. “D, I had to,” he said, whispering. Casey was sleeping in Leo’s room and Splinter was in the other. “They told me there was blood leaking out the sides of your battle shell- they had to know what was under there-”

‘That code was for you only.’ Donnie squinted at Leo so hard. No signing. No words. Leo would understand through glares alone.

Leo rolled his swollen eyes then winced and rubbed his temple with the corner of his phone. “That code was for emergencies. We had that talk a long time ago.”

A battle shell that could be removed by anyone was a security risk. Especially if they were captured there shouldn’t be an obvious and glaring eject shell button on his armor. Leo took issue with that because if Donnie became unconscious he wouldn’t be able to remove his shell. To placate his brother Donnie installed a way to enter codes for emergencies- with the strict rule it was only for emergencies and for Leo to use. That said Donnie had to look away a bit scornfully as he hadn’t thought about anyone else needing to give him medical care. Foolish in hindsight but Donnie was the most comfortable with his twin treating him.

“That was an emergency,” Leo said, as if he could hear Donnie’s thoughts. “You can be mad at me Donnie because I’m mad at myself. When April told me I was pissed you didn’t say anything until after Mikey and I were patched up. I am unbelievably mad at you that you would try and hide an injury so dangerous-” his voice popped.

Okay okay okay Donnie felt really bad and his anger was simmering away. He coughed and squeezed Leo’s middle a bit harder. Barely a squeeze at all, moreso just Donnie raising his shoulders with the idea of a squeezing hug. Leo would understand it.

“D, how did that even happen?” Leo whispered, pulling his left arm free and stroking the back of Donnie’s skull. “Do these itch? If your shell wasn’t peeled up I would have you soak in some b-bedodine?” Leo shook his head. “God, don’t quote me on that. I am pretty sure that would help. Betadine?” he questioned. “Fuck my head is killing me.”

Donnie shook his head. He didn’t want a betadine soak. He wanted to pretend-squeeze Leo and not answer dumb-dumb questions about what he did in the ship. The Kraang hickeys coated him in itchiness that he could only escape in sleep.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Leo said, his left arm hovered above Donnie's body. “Is it okay to- no of course not.” He got his phone and started typing. Then Leo gripped the railing of the bed on the other side of Donnie so he wouldn’t rest the weight of his arm on his bandaged shell. “Tomorrow I am looking at how they did the stitches,” he muttered.

A few minutes later Raph entered the medbay car with a pillow, Donnie shrunk against Leo’s side fearing removal.

“You shouldn’t be sharing a bed with him,” Raph said quietly. “You don’t want to reopen his wounds.”

“Yeah well my heart is a wound and if I have to kick him out of here I will be-” Leo froze. “Dammit Raph your face made me ruin my perfect comeback.”

“Raph’s face did no such thing, it's probably the painkillers.”

Leo groaned. “Listen, I broke his rule about the battle shell, he can break my rule,” his twin reasoned, and Donnie helpfully nodded. “Yes, that’s the one you’re amazing, but honestly my ability to describe this one pillow so well is doing a lot of the lifting here,” he said as Raph came closer. “Put it against his shell and then I’ll rest my arm there,” a cushioned weight rested against Donnie’s shell. It was unnerving but he was holding Leo which was doing a lot to keep him calm. “Perfect. That okay D? Lay completely motionless if that’s okay.”

The sensation was bearable. He needed to agree to it if he wanted to share the bed with Leo- but there was something off putting about the pressure. He toed his ankles uneasily but found the weight stable and unmoving. After a few seconds he tried laying as still as possible and found no real difference in pain with or without the pillow on his back.

“It looks okay,” Raph said. “Text if you need anything.” The tone was strong and Donnie read into it to mean if Leo needed a certain bed dwelling twin kicked to his own room. Raph leaned over the bed and smooched the top of Leo's head while very gently squeezing Donnie’s shoulder. “I’m bunking with Mikey, for obvious reasons. Dude can’t use his hands,” he said, standing up again, head brushing the ceiling before he remembered to duck down.

“I will text, I will,” Leo said, reaching to take hold of Raph’s hand. The IV line in the back of his hand knocked the side of the hospital bed. “I love you. Tell Mikey I love him too. Remind him that tomorrow his hands could probably handle those food prep gloves so he can use the bathroom without help.”

That certainly put Donnie’s misery into perspective. At least he could wipe his own butt and use the bathroom without assistance. Which… had he gone to the bathroom since the technodrome? He hadn’t eaten much. Only those grilled cheese sandwiches then he backslid (as Mikey called it) but it was because of his sore throat. He had a Jello cup: Lime. And a pudding cup: Vanilla.

“Yeah, I will. Right now I’m not sure he can extend his arms,” Raph said, tired. “I shouldn’t be worrying you about this stuff.”

He heard Leo’s heart skip a beat as if he told Mikey to open the portal to the prison dimension himself.

“I never worry,” Leo said, a grin sweetening his voice.

“I'm really sorry Donnie,” Raph said, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder again. “You needed the help bad little brother. I hope you can forgive me.”

Without hesitation Donnie reached back with his left arm and squeezed Raph’s hand. The wounds under the bandages burned with the strain but he needed Raph to know he wasn’t mad. Just unable to talk at the moment.

“I love you both too. I love you a lot. Go to bed Leo,” Raph said as he made his exit.

“I will. I swear. Look,” he grabbed his sleeping mask from the blankets and put it on with one hand. Over his swollen black eyes he was that committed to the dumb joke. “I’m sleepy already. Wee-snaw , as they say when sleeping soundly.”

Raph grumbled and shut the metal doors. Predictably the second the coast was clear Leo had a finger hooked under that mask and set it around his forehead. Phone back in his hand and even on the lowest volume Donnie could recognize what his brother was watching. Streetview videos of the invasion. People screaming. When Donnie went still and rigid Leo quickly muted his phone but the videos still reflected in his black puffy eyes.

So naturally Donnie reached up and pulled his sleeping mask down. No more phone for Nardo if he’s going to torture himself.

Leo huffed good naturedly and moved his mask back up. Donnie allowed this for ninety seconds before covering his eyes again. Eventually Leo’s arm tired of pivoting from scrolling to moving his sleeping mask and he groaned.

“Donnie, why are you like this? Do you know how long I have been without the internet?” he whined. “Let me do some scrolling.”

They were all addicted to their phone but was Leo really that needy for his social media scroll after what, thirty six hours from Casey showing up from the future? When Donnie gave Leo a confused look his brother rolled his eyes (regretted it with a wince) then finally powered his phone off.

“Fiiiiiiine,” he hissed. “You win you win you win you quilted bruised barnacle.” 

The torture was over but Leo did not sleep. Donnie tried to stay up until he felt Leo settle, but his own exhaustion was too powerful. The pain on every inch of his skin was too much. Sleep became such a peaceful option that when it extended its hand towards Donnie he fully embraced it. Leo’s teeth chattered in his dreams, something about his brother’s behavior followed him down to REM. He blinked awake to Leo’s teeth still chattering, then fell asleep to that uneasy thought that something wasn’t adding up.

Strep throat had a simple test. A swabbing taken from the back of the throat. Donnie always triggered his gag reflect flossing his back molars. When he had wisdom teeth to floss that got him gagging too. That swabbing for strep always came with an apologetic twin and three large dry heaves into a puke bucket. Donnie struggled to swallow pills bigger than tic-tacs. When he was really small he didn't understand that Tums were to be chewed like a vitamin enriched fruit gummy. He swallowed the three he had been handed from his father like pills and the chalky outside of the compressed disk stuck to the back of his tongue. Deep in his throat he could feel the calcium tablets cling and stick. It was Raph who heimliched them out after a lot of coughing and frantic gesturing. His father froze in shock, only scolding Donnie for trying to swallow Tums like pills. Alas, it was the origin story for fearing pills.

The nightmares happened then too. Waking up fearing the Tums were still back there. Had he truly coughed all three disks up? Then why did he swear he could feel a sharp edge digging into his throat and catching the edge of every inhale? Endured silently because it was his fault in the first place. Not yet understanding that his father reacted out of fear and regretted his remarks. All Donnie took from that day was he had almost killed himself.

And it was his fault.

Those Tums dreams faded. New fears rose up over old ones and childish things like choking to death broke against the rocks and became seafoam. His father apologized for not remembering that Donnie had never had Tums before. 

His father did not apologize for anything else.

Now the dreams returned and they were not flavored chalky berries. The thing stopping up his throat was cold as ice and wet. It had sprung his jaw open and filled the space between his teeth. Pinning his tongue and flossing behind his molars. His gagging turned into screaming, his clenched shut nostrils were pushed past. A pressure so intense he felt his eyes bug out of his skull. The worst brain freeze in the world to distract him from the bisecting path being explored in his throat. Lungs burning and filling with fluid tentacle, his stomach flipping as he experienced the reverse of project vomiting: rapid force feeding.

Thoughts had raced. Mikey was in danger. This felt so wrong but there was no turning back and if there was anything that could make it okay it was Leo. Cradling the back of his head and promising it would be quick. A swab. A test for strep. Assuring that this was not a repeat of what happened with those Tums because Leo knew it was always about the Tums. The grudge he couldn't get over so he passed it to the ten inch q-tip Leo was trying to convince him was different. There was nothing to worry about. Leo was too skilled to drop the swab down his throat. It would be over in a blink and there was hot chamomile tea in his favorite travel mug waiting to chase the feeling away. 

If he could get through that then- he could get through this now. He would lie to himself. He'd rewrite what was happening so he could allow it to be done. Because the world counted on him to get the Technodrome back through the portal.

He would make it Leo.

Unspoken between them, Leo didn't say a word to anyone about having to physically stop Donnie from tearing the skin off his own neck that morning. He just bandaged the scratch marks after calming him down and it got lost in all the other injuries on his body.

Then came breakfast. Plain and easy to eat. Oatmeal that Donnie drowned in extra milk making it a soup. Then he waited until it was tepid to eat. His family had eggs, bacon, toast, and watched Casey experience jam for the first time. It was too sweet and made his eyes burn and he felt really guilty about scraping it all off.

Everyone was exhausted but Leo was animated as ever. Making jokes and telling Casey about all the things he needed to try. There was a ringing in Donnie’s ears that followed him through breakfast and back to the medbay for his bandages to be changed. (Nobody was pleased that Donnie had slept in Leo's bed last night but there was nothing that could be done now.) 

Despite nodding that Leo was allowed to touch his shell Mikey insisted on sitting between Donnie's legs so they could watch whatever the all-knowing YouTube algorithm spit out for them. In the war between anxious little brother and being too tired to sit up on his own: Anxious little brother won. Donnie slumped forward resting his chin on top of Mikey's head, arms loosely crossed over his brother's shoulders. 

No one remembered that Donnie had level twelve myopia (-12.50 in his right eye, and -12.75 in his left) the video on Mikey's tablet was a mottled slide show of blurry colored blocks. His contacts were in his room but his eyes were too dry and irritated for them. His skin was too rashy and bruised for his goggles. Apathy settled over him while Leo unwrapped his shell, standing on the other side of the bed with Raph as his assistant, fretting over Leo's state just as much as Donnie's.

“Casey did this?” Leo asked, surprise in his voice.

Donnie bristled against it. Fear leaping forward in his mind. Casey did what to him and his shell? A stranger messed with his body. A strange human they didn't even know- The ball of sunshine that was Michelangelo rubbed his skull under Donnie's chin forcing him to swallow the thoughts away.

“With April,” Raph added to a memory Donnie barely had the outline for. “He said he had a little bit of experience sewing up Donnie's shell. But he called Donnie, Master Donatello instead, so he probably meant the Donnie from his timeline.”

Leo hummed and Donnie felt a blotting of something cold and jelly-like on his softshell. “I think the worst thing about the apocalypse would be watching my skin cream get lower and lower with no hope of replacement,” he said, not responding to any of what Raph just said.

“Not all the people dying?” Raph asked, deadpan.

“There can be two worst things, Raph,” Leo huffed, his breath on Donnie’s wet shell flashing it to ice.

Donnie winced and Mikey turned the volume up of the video. Cave exploring. Donnie hate-watched the hobby obsessively with Mikey. The vlog type videos always had the reassurance that the cavers made it out. How else would they edit and upload the video? Today two brothers were in Montana exploring the state's deadliest private access cave called ‘The Cobra's GI Track’ (or close enough) where several hobbyist and thrill seekers had lost their lives.

“Why would anyone willingly explore a cave with that name?” Donnie asked.

Somehow despite the popping and crackling in Donnie's voice he was understood. 

“To know what's in the cave. To bond with your sibling while you both partake in a dangerous hobby,” Mikey said happily.

“Eesh, Donnie, is your throat hurting you?” Leo asked.

It burned worse than strep. His sinuses felt dry and packed with scabbed blood. The feeling of flaring his nostrils after a nosebleed where all the sticky dried blood yanked on the membrane and tissues inside. Swallowing shot pain up into his ears but he had no way to explain why this happened. Thinking about the cause wasn't going to make anything hurt less.

The silence was filled by Raph, “He screamed himself hoarse when we removed his Battle Shell. He did that thing he does but on level one hundred.”

“Right,” Leo said, stiff.

Screaming hadn't helped. The embarrassment was a cloud above Donnie's head. It was a full body wince that made him want to curl up and die. For a moment being injured was a crutch for his behavior because there was sympathy. When he completely lost it because there was too much noise he had no excuse. However if he was physically fine his brothers had no issues leaving him alone. Locked away in his lab for five days with three portals a day that pushed takeout containers in.

There was no hiding now. Not when he needed his wounds cleaned. Not when he needed medication. Not when he was being dosed with a very heavy painkiller that required he be monitored. Checked in on. Supervised.

“Hey Donnie since you're talking,” Raph said, spreading lies and rumors. “This is from piloting the ship, huh?”

His teeth were creaking from how hard his jaw was clamped shut.

Mikey heard it, tablet balancing in his mummified arms. “He'll talk about it when he's ready to Raph,” tone just shy of warning.

“Think it might help to know what we're dealing with,” Raph said, tones matching now.

Before Donnie could waffle on that. His promise to never let whatever was wrong with him hurt his wellbeing- Leo stopped blotting.

“Okay Raph can you take a picture before I wrap him back up,” Leo said, limping to a cabinet. “We're getting you a guard D, that way you can put some clothes on. I know how much you love wearing clothes.”

A guard was a clear acrylic shield that was formed using Donnie's shell as the original reference. It had holes cut out to allow airflow and went on top of a heavy layer of gauze and then under one final layer to keep it in place. Same as the battle shell there was a padded shoulder bit that kept it up on his shell. A purely utilitarian belt connected the sides and could be tightened down over his plastron.

Pictures were taken, uploaded to electronic medical files, brothers were moved. Donnie sat on a padded stool while Raph and Leo passed a roll of gauze around Donnie like two people stringing lights on a Christmas tree.

“Sit up straight,” Leo reminded Donnie every few passes.

His body was weighted down. Gravity pulled on his insides. Despite getting sleep he felt he could sleep again. Not only did his shell hurt, the muscles in his back burned. Annoyingly the best position for this back pain would be to lay on his back with a couple pillows under his knees. Depending on where he was laying he might want a rolled up towel under his neck. That position wouldn't be possible for months. 

This body was a prison cell.

“After this we're addressing your wounds Leo,” Raph warned.

“Not what we agreed on,” Leo said, a lawyer objecting to the judge. “Arms for all three of you and then I will allow Casey to continue with my shell.”

“We know how to fix cracked carapaces,” Mikey said.

‘We’ in this case was all of them, including the resident softshell. That was what Leo got for being the medic and the first one to crack his shell attempting a ridiculous skateboard trick. His brother did nail the trick shot and it was amazing and Donnie got the best footage- but immediately after nailing it Leo had tripped, fallen over, reached out to catch himself with his skateboard in hand and landed on the edge of the board.

That was how Donnie, Raph, and Mikey learned that bra hooks and UV resin were essential hand on items for carapace repair.

“You didn't close the portal with me inside.” Leo said, holding the roll of gauze and not passing it back to Raph.

He got lost in what was going on. Leo liked Casey now he was blaming the kid? Sure Donnie was pissed off at Casey but Casey was following an order.

The same way Donnie followed his own orders that day. He clenched and unclenched his left hand in his lap. Nails scraping into bruises and hurting more than normal.

“You told him to do that Leo, you can't hold that against him. Not that I like that he listened,” Raph clarified.

Donnie clenched harder, delicate skin peeled up from the meat of his palm.

“I'm not, it's not a punishment-” Leo snapped.  “Do you think I blame him for following my orders? Seriously?”

“Guys!” Mikey scolded.

Blood beaded up where Donnie’s nails pressed into his hand. Staining the edge of his nail. His skin felt wrong. Raph's right hand covered Donnie's left. A finger was used to stop Donnie from hurting himself more. He watched it like it was happening on the screen of a tablet.

To someone else.

This body was a prison.

“Oh look what you've done-” Leo snarled at Raph.

“What both of you have done,” Mikey snapped, slamming his heavily bandaged hands on his thighs. “Change the damn topic and learn to read the room,” he said, tears in his voice.

Silence. Raph held Donnie's left hand open and Leo finished securing the gauze and the guard around his shell before spinning the stool and bandaging the self-inflicted injury. Shame licking the back of Donnie’s sore throat. Where there would usually be words for Donnie and what he had just done; Mikey’s and Raph's presence stole them away.

“Casey needs to continue caring for my shell because he started it and we all know how hard it is to pick up in the middle of someone else's arts and craft project,” Leo said, wrapping Donnie's hand with care. It had to be difficult with a broken left finger and a stunted right hand but Leo didn't show his frustration. He just picked up his gauze when he accidentally dropped it and carried on. “And before you say anything else,” he warned, looking over Donnie's shoulder at Raph, “Casey is desperate to help us in any way and is guilty about… doing the thing with the other thing . He wants to fix my carapace. I want him to, too. To too? That sounds weird.”

A beat of silence. Leo let go of Donnie’s hand and disposed of old gauze.

“You get what I'm saying,” Leo said, flippant.

“Okay,” Raph agreed.

“Also full offense I trained him so obviously he is going to do a better job than any of you. Alright D, you're ready for prom!” Leo said, left hand hovering near Donnie before he realized there was no uninjured area on his person to pat.

Donnie still glared at him.

“Maybe you need a little foundation before you go,” Leo said, twisting his swollen lips up in a way that has to be agonizing. “Okay, arm time,” he clapped once while holding his broken finger out. Small right hand smacking the middle of his left palm. “Show me these arms. Mikey, are you okay going first?”

“Sure….”

The tablet was passed to Donnie who took it to the other end of the subway car. Away from whatever tense thing was happening between Mikey, Raph, and Leo. Letting Leo look at his leathery torn up shell was hard enough and the audience left a buzz on his already wrong flesh.

His whole body felt raw and wrong and he folded himself up against the headboard of the other bed. Mikey had another cave diving video that Donnie blindly poked the screen to start again. Any noise to cancel out his thoughts. Somewhere in the blurry video and his own shivering Casey came in. Dressed in a pair of Leo's sweatpants and one of Mikey's t-shirts. Neon blue with a unicorn pooping a rainbow on it. Ironically a hand-me-down from Leo that no longer fit over his shell. That's how Donnie even knew what was on the shirt with his horrible eyes.

“We can't heal these,” Casey said, the older teens blurry form standing in front of Mikey's equally blurry form seated on the edge of the bed. “They're from overusing your mystic powers, you need Grandpa to treat them.”

“Splinter can heal these?” Leo asked incredulously. He was hardly alone seeing as Splinter treated every malady with hot soup and ice packs. “Since when?”

“No, Grandpa Barry?” Casey said, unprepared for the gun that went off.

“No way!” Mikey bounced on the bed and kicked his legs.

Leo dramatically fell against the cabinets prompting Raph to actually try and catch him. Accidentally playing into the theatrics. “No no no no no it’s a different Barry. It’s a very common name!” he wailed, falling into Raph's arms.

Casey scratched his head. “He was here yesterday to help with-, to help with what was happening to Master Donatello. Baron Draxum. Alchemist Warrior.”

Leo clutched his chest. 

“And you call him Grandpa?” Raph asked. Donnie could hear the lip curl.

“Yeah, uh, but not anymore he uhm threatened to step on me if I ever called him that again,” Casey said, voice thick. “Kind of hurt, just a little. Dude used to tell me stories about little kids being eaten for wandering off, now he wants to step on me… it's cool.”

“He tells those stories to kids?” Mikey whispered.

“I mean they were just bedtime stories-”

“Well did he tell you the bedtime story where he threw me off a roof?!” Leo gasped, sitting up and pulling himself to his feet out of Raph's arms. “Did he tell you that story, Casey?”

The teenager took several steps back, encroaching on Donnie's side of the medbay now. “Oh. Guys. I'm sorry, I don't really know the situation I think Master Michelangelo always said it was... Uhm, like, an unrequited thing?” he said uncertainly, firing another gun. “They were on and off then The Invasion happened?”

Leo and Mikey screamed with different emotions. Raph tried to shush them in a vain effort to keep the noise down. Donnie crumpled in on himself, the noise spiking his heart rate and crushing his skull in with deep throbs.

“I’m sorry guys I have the past and the future all scrambled in my brain… and my grandpa hates me,” Casey yelped, helplessly as his butt hit the endboard of Donnie’s bed.

A hiss crept out of Donnie’s throat. The noise. The subway car was loud and overwhelming and- his skin was wrong.

“Unrequited?” Three brothers ask in a cacophony of different undulations. “Unrequited love?”

Casey swallowed. “Yes? I don't remember how Master Splinter died in my timeline but he died before Grandpa Barry could... Uh... how do I say this?”

“Make his feelings known,” Donnie provided, voice flat.

“Right! Thank you Master Donatello!” Casey said. “But I guess he was my grandpa because Sensei always said he was his dad. And he was open about having two dads.”

“I approved of this?” Leo asked, outraged.

“I guess I thought he must have told Master Splinter how he felt by now?” Casey asked. Shuffling his hands around. “They were pretty cozy eating dinner in the kitchen last night, they were holding hands-”

Leo covered his ears. “NO!”

“Oh my god,” Raph said, staring in the middle distance.

“OHMIGOSH!” Mikey squealed. “Maybe we saved the world and their relationship! How sweet!”

The noise, uhg, if the idea of walking to his room wasn't just terrible Donnie would be bolting out of the medbay. Right now the presence of his brothers kept him from focusing on his skin. Or the internal pain that was holding hands in his gut.

‘I should probably tell Leo about this,’ Came a fearful little thought. Under it scary possibilities like, ‘Appendicitis’ and ‘gallstones’ piped up. 

“Betrayal,” Leo gasped. “Betrayed by my own father.”

Was this much pain normal? It seemed to travel with his food. Dinner the other night had caused a massive stomach ache that got lower and lower. Right now he had that kind of cramping that came with constipation. He knew it wasn't that- he knew he was completely empty after piloting the ship. The thoughts might as well have been his own when it happened. The maximum amount of contact had to be made and pesky things like food waste, bile, urine, snot, mucus linings all needed to be taken out. Replaced by biological contact. 

Horrifying, really. He knew that was not right looking back. It had been painful and felt so extremely wrong. Why was he only thinking about that now? No wonder his ears, nose, mouth, and… cloaca burned so much. His mind drifted to everything that was in his cloaca that he didn't want anything making contact with. What exactly did the Technodrome touch? Where did it insert itself? Why was he so scared of knowing?

“Here, Master Donatello, can I look at your arm?” Casey said, coming to the side of the bed.

Donnie jerked out of his thoughts. Terrible tumbling thoughts and considered the situation. Casey was more knowledgeable than Leo on mystic injuries. In response Donnie held out his heavily bandaged right arm for Casey to check. On the other side of the medbay Leo was outfitting Mikey with those custom food prep gloves Donnie made five hundred thousand pairs of at once. (All of them survived the Shredder destroying their home.) Donnie had taken over a glove factory for one night, loading in a custom model of their own hand to make consumer grade mutant turtle food prep and latex gloves. Leo and Mikey needed them the most and Donnie only ever wanted to take over a glove factory one time. Donnie heard Mikey express relief that now that his fingers were individually wrapped and he could wear a glove- he could now use the bathroom by himself. A task Raph had been helping him with because that was the nature of losing functionality in both hands. Mikey apologized awkwardly, Raph had none of it because they were brothers. Donnie watched on, feeling his own shame bubble forward.

Casey was rewrapping his right arm, turning his hand from a gauze mitten to a gauze glove. Being right handed Donnie was actually pretty inconvenienced by the mystic fissures. Raph was left handed which meant he too was forced to use his non-dominant hand. If only he and Raph had switched sides while helping Mikey make the portal to the prison dimension. Donnie supposed their thoughts had been elsewhere.

Such as the Leo that came through with injuries too old to make sense.

Donnie avoided eye contact with Casey. Not that he had the ability to look Casey in the eye in the first place; he was new. Yet this lack of eye contact was pure embarrassment. “Sorry about yesterday,” he mumbled.

Because Casey was new and he also saw Donnie do that.

“It’s cool Master Donatello. Stress happens to everyone,” Casey said, smiling. A smile Donnie couldn't see but hear.

He swallowed the glass in his throat and nodded tightly.

After being cleared from the medbay Donnie used the very little energy he had to put a pair of sweatpants on (black with a strip of pink reflective fabric down the outside of the pant legs) and a large pink hoodie that used to be Raph's when he was eleven.

It still didn't fit Donnie. It hung to his mid thigh.

Even with all the sleep he got last night snoozing against his twin until past lunchtime, Donnie had no energy for anything else. He zombie-walked back to the living room. Casey joined him on the walk, wearing Leo's clothes and looking far too skinny. Brushing the underweight appearance with sharp shoulders and his borrowed sweatpants cinching above his hip bones. 

Donnie nodded when Casey addressed him but still only managed to look at the taller human’s collarbone. They trudged along in companionable one sided silence on Donnie’s part, vaguely aware that Casey was talking to him. All the words were garbled and put Donnie on a knife’s edge. The human gave up by the time they arrived at the living room. Leo was already chattering a mile a minute with energy Donnie couldn’t understand.

“Casey. Grab a blanket and join us,” Leo said, from where he was curled in Raph's lap. “You look sad.”

The boy had stubble on his chin. The start of a patchy beard that he kept picking at whenever he was nervous. “I'm fine. I don't want to impose-”

Razors. Deodorant. Human shampoo not just the salon pet shampoo they order for dad. Nose hair trimmer. Tweezers. April would need to find his foundation and the best eyebrow pencils. He had acne. He definitely needed a gentle soap for his face and unscented moisturizers. Already Donnie was forming a toiletry bag for Casey Jones in his mind. Looking at him when he wasn't looking back at Donnie he saw nice full eyebrows. A little shaping to pluck the stray hairs trying to form a drawbridge from one brow to the other had to be done. No unibrows allowed in this bloodline. Which included future students of Leo's.

“He wants your body heat Case’,” Raph said, tiredly.

“Raph shut up,” Leo groaned with an eyeroll. “Oh Casey, my amazing student whom I favored the most probably, you look haggard,” Leo said, sweetly. Mask tails for a mask he clearly forgot he wasn’t wearing were thrown back over his shoulder. “A movie will do nicely. And bring your body heat for no reason.”

Casey gave a half smile but relented. That was his teacher according to Casey and every interaction between them proved it was a close relationship. The data was mounting and weighted and catalogued- the only thing Donnie could firmly confirm about the future Casey came from was that he was taken under Leo's wing at some point.

Why else would he paint those red crescents on his mask in the same exact color as Leo's when black would be so much cooler? The boy was sentimental and that had to be Leo's sappy influence as his Sensei.

When picking out where to hunker down Donnie chose to lay on a rolled out futon next to Mikey. The box turtle was asleep, curled up like a cat on another futon with a pillow to wrap all his limbs around. Head completely inside his shell under a fleece blanket. Raph was on the other side of the living room with his shell against the front of the couch. A thin blanket over his shoulders, another futon under him. Leo was sitting in his lap wrapped in a blanket and begging Casey with his eyes to come sit in Raph's lap with him. Casey seemed hesitant.

Years of knowing how Donnie was when he was hurt or injured meant no one begrudged him laying down four feet away from Mikey and twelve feet away from Raph. He did not want to be touched, he did not want to cuddle. He didn’t even want a blanket or pillow.

“Come here Casey, Raph’s got room,” Raph said, offering his right side for the boy. “How are you feeling Donnie?”

Donnie shrugged, wincing as he splayed out on his plastron and decided bending his knees so his feet stood straight up was best for the itchiness. ‘Same. Before,’ Donnie signed in Raph's direction, noting he hadn't said how he was earlier.

The seventeen year old approached Donnie instead of Raph, making him bristle. ‘Go. Snuggle. Teacher,’ Donnie signed. He wanted to hiss but restrained himself.

“Uhm, I will but,” Casey easily squatted down. Flat feet. That resting position that all of them could hold for hours. Donnie noted Casey was definitely raised in a household with asian customs. (A bunker with asian customs?) He also did the little bow and 'itadakimasu' before each meal, just not louder than any of them so it went unnoticed. “Master Donatello, is there somewhere you want this?” the stubbly chinned teen asked, holding out his comm.

Donnie squinted and took it. The wrist band was sweaty and needed to be washed, the screen was scuffed. Seeing the gadget brought up a twisting in his stomach. Casey stood and Leo redoubled his efforts to make Casey join him in Raph's lap. It was all background noise.

The comms. Where was his comm again? Probably his room in that pile on the floor. After his nuclear meltdown yesterday someone stripped him of his wrapping, elbow and knee pads, mask (and therefore eyebrows), before depositing him in bed to cool off. He should find everyone's comm and charge them. Then run diagnostics. Then download what was important-

He wasn't sure he wanted a recording of Leo sacrificing himself. Or the painful minutes after where they had to tell April and Splinter where Leo was. When for a second Donnie was still in the Technodrome now sliced cleanly in half as his twin sent himself to his death. That wasn't yesterday. 

That. Was. Two days ago.

Thank Einstein that Leo was talking because that did so much to pull back Donnie’s racing thoughts. They still hadn't talked about the prison dimension or Leo's stupid choices. All because they were barely past the forty eight hour mark and Leo still hadn't slept once. He still ate three servings of every meal and drank water in sixteen ounce gulps.

Those bruises on his twin's face were too dark to be from two days ago . His black eyes were flattening faster than they should be able to. None of it made sense. Unless the prison dimension warped time and there was a thought that knocked Donnie back. Tilting the room and answering too many questions at once. Another Casey situation where everything was off until they got it through their skulls that Casey idolized Leo in another timeline as his teacher. Now the hunger, the thirst, the weird inconsistency with his wounds. Donnie propped himself up to look at Leo. Sound had grayed out again but judging by the movie playing above him and Mikey- the pinched annoyance as Raph tried to get Leo to stop talking. The sad expression on Casey's face could be anything, but right now it was twisted in worry.

“Leo, try to watch the movie.”

“But I've seen this one, I've seen it a million times, okay maybe not a million but at least a thousand. Hey remember when Mikey got obsessed with A Nightmare Before Christmas and we did a musical for dad and he was confused because he hadn't seen the movie-”

“Leo-”

“But but but we couldn't even show him the movie because we played it so much it skipped and jumped so Donnie downloaded it from the Internet and we were like stunned. Flabbergasted. But it was in Russian and the subtitles were in English and Mikey cried because the singing was wrong- I called that one The Nightmare Before Red Christmas but Casey we gotta watch it with you- do you think Mikey still has the songs memorized? I'd sing it again. Anywhere. In the Hidden City. On Big Mama's train- yes Casey that's her name- oh does she die in your future? Splinter used to date her- he told me way too many details.”

Raph sighed, and put his hand over Leo's mouth. “Leo, buddy, I know what you're doing and you gotta knock it off. Close your eyes, get some rest.”

Instead Leo began berating Raph behind his hand, muffled words that Donnie couldn't catch every syllable of. The gist was he wasn't tired, he slept last night, he didn't need to be babied.

Then it kept going. A bad joke. Raph removed his hand from Leo's mouth and wiped his wet palm on the futon that now Donnie will never touch again. Yep. That futon was now on the avoid at all cost list.

“I like when people upload those clips of Jupiter Jim sets without the effects,” Leo prattled on, knees bouncing where he sat on Raph's left thigh and leaned against his plastron. Raph bandaged left arm around his shell and holding Leo's left thigh through the blankets. Otherwise Leo was going to topple off his leg with the fidgeting. “Everytime the ship takes a hit the actors have to throw themselves against the console and chairs to make it look like they got impacted but look- those two just went in opposite directions!”

It wasn't funny. Mikey was sleeping through it, but everyone else desperately wanted Leo to shut up and sleep. The joke was getting drawn out far too long and Leo had been steadily yapping since quote unquote “waking up” this afternoon. Another warning from Raph that this wasn't funny had Leo quiet for ten seconds before he was telling Casey another rambling fact about the Jupiter Jim movie they were watching.

Agitation bubbled inside Donnie. He loved his brother, he was happy he wasn't dead, he was happy they were all alive but every inch of his skin burned and Leo was babbling. Letting out a frustrated sigh set Raph off. Especially when he was trying to get his brain to focus on the inconsistencies in Leo’s injuries. A headache was blossoming behind his eyes.

“Leo. This isn't funny. Read the room. We're all tired and trying to decompress,” Raph said, stern and soft. “Take a deep breath and close your mouth.”

‘This isn't funny,’ Donnie repeated a few times in his head.

The thing was, (and he'll never admit this to Leo), was that Leo actually was funny. He was funny because while he had atrocious puns and cheesy one liners- Leo never doubled down when things were serious. This was serious. The whole family was pretty injured and still in the fresh stages of recovery, something their residents medic would normally be sensitive to- very serious about-

And the thought was sand through his fingers. Leo was babbling after ten seconds of silence.

This time Donnie sat up completely to look at Leo. Fidgeting. Knees bouncing as he continued to pick out Jupiter Jim production facts to Casey who was far more invested in resting his hands on Leo's knees and frowning. Which was a little weird if Casey was Leo's student only.

“Leo, drop the act,” Raph warned. “Donnie and Mikey are trying to sleep.”

Guilty red striped eyes whipped towards Donnie. His twin winced and hunched down against Raph. Knees still bouncing.

Teeth chattering.

The other day Leo had peeled himself out of the medbay just to be in the living room and eat with them. Had Leo been alone at all since then, and was that from his own effort? Leo had been quiet last night on his phone as he watched clip after clip of the invasion online but Donnie was there in the bed with him.

In real time Donnie watched as something in Leo bubbled over. A few times where he opened his mouth then looked at Donnie and Mikey then shut it. Leo had a sense of humor. He knew when a joke wasn't funny anymore and when the moment wasn't right. He knew when to duck his head and tuck his tail between his legs. So when Leo spoke again with a desperate gasp, rattling at top speed another Jupiter Jim fact- now going into the allegations against Commander Davey's actor- Donnie saw a slow motion explosion.

“Leo, quit it-”

“Master Raphael I think-”

“Boys!”

Everyone jumped as Splinter came into the living room. Tattered work out robe and broken house sandals fixed with duct tape. 

“What is this I'm hearing about Baron Draxum coming by today?” Splinter said, eyeing them all suspiciously. “He was here yesterday! That's the weekly quota filled! Orange promised!”

Raph sighed. “He needs to look at our mystics wounds, pops.”

Leo nodded, face hollow before he plastered some ghost of a smile. “Mmmmm hey dad maybe while they're getting there mystic wounds treated you and I can make a list of all the reasons Draxum is terrible and would make a horrible father figure and partner for no reason in particular. Mmmmm’kay?”

There was Leo securing company for himself while Raph, Mikey, and Donnie were going to be busy.

Splinter hummed and hawed at this. “I was going to watch my show… but would we show him this list?”

“Yes,” Leo said, as if there was any other reason to make one.

“No no no he'd probably be happy that he bothers me so much!” Splinter said in a panic. “What a jerk!”

Leo whimpered as Splinter stormed off to the kitchen. Raph took it another way.

“Leo, it wouldn't be the end of the world if they-”

“Don't you dare say the rest of that sentence I cannot even fathom how you could-” Leo leaned to his left and mimed throwing up on the floor.

“Okay. Okay. You're ridiculous,” Raph grumbled, nudging Leo back into his spot against his plastron. The movement accidentally jerked Casey and Leo closer together. Leo scrambled at the opportunity to free his arms and clutch Casey to his chest as his blanket pooled around his waist. Casey yelped but allowed himself to be abducted like a too kind housecat by a visiting toddler.

“I won't let that monster become your grandpa in this timeline Casey,” Leo breathed, stroking Casey's head.

Casey opened and closed his mouth a few times. “He's not-”

Leo glared down at Casey. Even without looking to see Leo’s face Casey made his mouth a tiny tiny line and took a deep breath through his nose.

“I mean,” Casey exhaled. “I'm sure you guys can handle whatever life throws at you...”

Casey peeled himself away from Leo but opened his arms for a more even sided hug. Leo wasted no time hugging the stranger that dropped into their lives two days ago. As soon as Leo was looking back at the movie and talking again Casey's smile dropped and he kept his arm around Leo's carapace to cushion it from Raph's plastron. It was the kind of detail that threw Donnie off kilter and since Casey started nodding and humming with acknowledgement as Leo rambled- Raph let him keep talking. Holding them both in place between his legs.

Donnie turned Casey's comm over and over in his hand. Doing so hurt the skin on his palm but he was stalling. Too tired to get up, too worried about all the little things that didn't add up.

“Hey quick topic change,” Leo said, somehow interrupting himself mid Jupiter Jim actor allegation retelling.

“No one but you was talking,” Raph commented, completely fed up.

“Silence can be its own communication,” Leo said, nonsensical even for him. The living room was anything but silent between the movie and Leo's top speed blabbering. “Anyways, semantics and telling Raph he's wrong aside… uhm….How uhm, how long was I in that other… the-prison-dimension-place-again?”

The room shifted again. Mikey woke up but kept his head in his shell so Donnie didn't draw attention to it.

“It took Mikey ten minutes to make the portal,” Raph said, without a hint of annoyance. Just a soft reassurance.

Unfortunately Raph was wrong, and Donnie couldn’t sit there idly.

“Casey removed the key at 14:19:08,” Donnie reported from memory. “Mikey's portal was made at 14:34:59, Mikey closed it ninety seconds later at 14:36:29 as soon as you were clear.” Instant math: “Seventeen minutes and twenty one seconds spent in the prison dimension.”

Saying it out loud was weird. Seventeen and a half minutes in the prison dimension and Leo came out looking like an apple stuck falling down an escalator. 

Leo stayed silent for a few seconds. “Ah, s’not so bad then, is it?” he chortled.

Except it wasn't funny. The same way talking through an entire two hour movie wasn't funny. This wasn't funny and most importantly Leo wasn't trying to be funny.

Suddenly Donnie was up. The quick spring into being vertical made Casey jump and Raph tilt his head in question.

“Something wrong Donnie?” Raph asked.

He held up Casey's comm. ‘Charger,’ he signed, motions more clipped than he intended. Hands shaking as he stormed off.

Sometimes when Raph was overbearing and couldn't leave Donnie alone because he stormed off- Donnie would be forced to try and hold his door closed while Raph pushed in anyways. They had to talk about what happened now before feelings were hurt. If there was a fight and Donnie walked away he was doing something wrong because an apology in the moment was better than coming back a few hours later. Did he want his brothers to feel bad for an hour? No. So why did he storm off?

Raph was bigger, stronger, these were the days before lab doors with electromagnetic locks and security systems. Ironically not needed anymore because eventually through trial and error and a lot of freaking out on Donnie's part they all realized he wasn't a manipulative little child running away until he got his way. He had bees in his chest that made his whole body vibrate. The feeling was knowing the alien in the movie was right behind the protagonist. A scream trapped in his lungs. Only it was over ridiculous things like Mikey taking something off his lunch plate, or getting his sock wet, or winning a game for once and feeling so happy it turned painful meaning he had to flee immediately.

The last reason showed his brothers it wasn't only bad things that made Donnie storm off; It was good things too. It was having to leave in the middle of a newly released movie that he had been waiting months for because suddenly it was too much. Then having to explain to people that couldn't understand when he also couldn't understand past knowing he was going to scream if he didn't dash out of the theater and hide in the bathroom to jump up and down.

When Donnie had these moments… these gathering clouds of a forecasted meltdown he could cut them off. Grab noise cancelling headphones, a fidget toy (preferably with satisfying gears to spin and twist and a smooth polished metal finish), and put himself somewhere dark. Those were the clouds that gathered before Leo made them traipse through a slime jungle in the subway. Donnie weathered the darkening sky, the flashes of lightning, the barometric pressure drops until he was home. With every inch of his body marred and thunder in his head. 

After leaving the living room and gathering the comms he noted the distance clouds of discomfort. A full body alert that he was treading into that static in his chest.

Leo's comm was dead.

Donnie made those comms to have impressively efficient batteries. They could last days on a single charge. There were battery saving protocols at half battery, quarter battery, ten percent, and the last five percent dedicated to the sole operation of displaying location. In theory giving Donnie the maximum amount of time to track a signal.

And Leo's comm was dead. Zero percent on the battery level.

The second alert came with a cramp so severe he almost didn't make it to the bathroom in his lab. Donnie had only heard from his brothers about eating something risky and blowing up the toilet bowl as a result. Leo could handle some scary levels of spiciness. Raph had a meat heavy diet. Donnie was certain Mikey would try anything once. Meanwhile on a good day Donnie might allow pickles on his sub sandwich. 

The point was his eating had been far too lame and boring to pour out of him in a hot burn. Consistency of bowel movements did not coincide with diet. Urine and fecal matter had one shared garage and one shared garage door. The only consistency was that urination also followed the passing of fecal matter, but fecal matter didn't always follow urination. Donnie grunted through what he suspected was just urine. There wasn't enough food in him to have a bowel movement, even though it had been over fifty four hours since the Technodrome shop vacuumed his insides out and moved itself in. Boy was he now remembering in a very painful way the part of that experience he was trying to avoid.

Oh he knew it went up there. He was there and those shorts didn't dissuade the alien tech from having a look around. On one hand he didn't have time to be scared about his tail being forced from between his legs before he experienced his kidneys being sucked on from his ureters. That pain was a flash in the pan compared to the needles in his spine. He was almost grateful there was a worse pain in his back that overwhelmed his pain processing abilities.

Then it wasn't painful, or uncomfortable, or scary- he wasn't a turtle anymore. He was a spaceship. He was the Technodrome-

Another cramp, another squirt of acid dribbled out. Donnie blotted with toilet paper fearing the bidet would be too much. He had direct feedback with the folded up pad of toilet paper. A comforting thought that this was his hand wiping at a burning orifice.

When he pulled the paper away it was dark red. There was urine too. That milky yellow their reptilian body created. Those bees in his chest swarmed. A logical part of him stands with his sweat pants still around his ankles and stares back at the porcelain soup. It was bloody, not full of blood, not ‘I’m bleeding to death from a several feet long wound threading my digestive track from mouth to rear end,’ just red mixing with urine and water.

He would keep an eye on it. There was a throb in his cloaca that matched his heartbeat. It was painful like yawning with chapped lips and having the skin split. Somewhere in the lab he had Vaseline, it might be dirtied with oil and grease- no it definitely was. Maybe he should take a picture of what just happened, but that would mean accepting what happened here was bad. If Leo needed to see this he needed to see it now.

So Donnie flushed, washed his hands for three minutes, then catastrophized about his death. He was dying. He needed to make peace with that, maybe make sure they could find his password book- even if he didn't there were protocols for Shelldon's new not sentient AI to follow. His brothers would be okay, all of their home security had back ups and brother-simple instructions. He could just stand in his lab and breathe and-

Draxum was here.

And Draxum could not wait for Donnie to collect the delicate little pieces around himself.

“A time portal? Impressive. You should be dead. Normally there isn't even a corpse.”

Raph bristled, drawing his mouth into a worried line. That chasm Leo named got bigger. Draxum's words were terrifying and Michael was clearly upset. Thankfully Raph pulled Mikey under his uninjured right arm and hissed at Draxum, “Dude. Be gentle.”

The goat rolled his eyes and talked over Mikey who was starting to defend him. All of this should have sparked a speaking role in Donnie. Only it didn't. Leo's comm was dead. His insides were falling out. His back burned. He didn't want to be in the Dojo on a mat talking to Baron Draxum of all souls. Hard to believe a thing like Donnie could ever be considered a soldier. There had to be some relief when he saw how broken Donnie was that Splinter took him away. The mystic potential he had as a fighter was outshadowed by the fact that he might curl into a ball and scream if things didn't go exactly his way.

“Spells that mess with time and resurrection have built in protections,” Draxum drawled. “Death is the deterrent keeping alchemists and mystic wielders in check. The three of you cheated this system and will pay the price for the rest of your lives.”

Cool. Awesome. His insides were bleeding and he was pretty sure he was going to die soon. Why did anything matter? The silence in the Dojo became an opening. “This can only mean good things for my whole bad boy persona.”

Leo would have laughed, if he was there. Instead Raph glared then faced Draxum while squeezing Mikey closer.

The air was thinning. It was a joke. Was his tone incorrect? No more talking today then. Bad Donnie.

“What's the price and who do we write the check to because I don't regret anything,” Raph stated.

Mikey nodded. Donnie ran through anything he remembered about gas exchange in the lungs. Could he take a deep breath or were his lungs filling with blood the same way his guts were? The meltdown a few days ago had utilized all of his lung capacity but maybe the bleeding didn't start until today. Would the mottled brown and purple Kraang hickeys on his skin break open and bleed too?

“These never go away,” Draxum said, gesturing to their crackled arms. For Donnie and Raph the cracks stop just before the deltoids. For Mikey the fissures spiderwebbed into his back stopping at his shell. “They close, they can be drained of their mystic discharge- but they are marks of shame. Alchemists will not do business with you, they will not associate with you. Even with these scars covered their aura can be detected.”

“Like, there's a code?” Mikey asked shakily.

“A superstition that those who cheat death are forever chased by it,” Draxum stated.

“Does that mean-”

“Do I, Baron Draxum, look as foolish as to believe in superstitions?” Draxum asked, cutting off Mikey's question. “We will move forward with your training.”

“So what's mystic discharge- and can we work on a different name?” Raph asked.

Draxum nodded and moved to bring the small chest he had arrived with in front of them. The chest was tooth white, longer than it was wide. Something sloshed inside as it swung to the middle of their semi-circle.

“It is decayed mystic energy, it is unstable at best and volatile at worst. A biological toxin that collects in mortal flesh, which is why this magic is best left to mystic demigods,” Draxum said, opening the chest to reveal something that looked remarkably similar to what was in Donnie’s lab toilet. Red water (it was not water) and long yellow-white lace strands floating around. “I have brought these Chrysophyceae Hirudinea cuttings. This species of plant feeds off mystic discharge. I will wrap your wounds in this and for the next several days these cuttings will sustain themselves on your discharge-”

“Please stop using that word,” Raph all but begged.

“After the mystic discharge is consumed the cuttings will begin to starve,” Draxum continued with an air of annoyance. “Do not remove them until they begin to peel away themselves. Yes, they are compostable. No, I do not want them back. I already have plenty of food scraps from the school's cafeteria.”

Then Draxum dipped his finger into the red water, hooking a cutting with one nail. As it was pulled from the water (Donnie was going to convince himself it was water) the cutting wiggled and spread open. Going from the diameter of a pencil to a flat foot wide sheet. One side had millions and millions of pulsing nubs. Wriggling the way a starfish scales a glass aquarium. Immediately Donnie's mouth filled with saliva and his stomach turned. He jerked back from the chest going from sitting on his legs in seiza to landing on his very sore rear end. To escape the sudden clap of pain flooding his pelvis he twisted to his side and covered his mouth. 

‘Don't vomit,’ was the only mantra in his mind.

“Ah okay,” Raph said with a nervous laugh. “So- we're gonna have a problem with that texture .”

Vomiting was looking less and less avoidable. Everything already hurt so bad. The baseline pain was distracting then going to the bathroom amplified it. He was smart enough to know puking would hurt his throat, his nose, his mouth. He begged himself to stop, pounding his left fist on the floor. He couldn't do this; he needed everyone to stop talking. He needed space he needed to stop thinking about pulling long clumps of hair from sewer drains because he had to-

“Here, D,” Raph said softly. “I'll go first so you know what to brace yourself for.”

Okay. Lead by example. It was true Donnie had an easier time doing something he didn't want to if he saw his brothers doing it first. This mostly only applied to food- (And it usually had to be Leo-) but he could power through.

He slowly sat in seiza where he was. Giving him an extra few feet from the group. Raph held out his left arm obediently and Draxum held the Chrysophyceae Hirudinea cutting up letting it spread open before draping it over Raph's forearm. The cutting immediately wrapped itself around Raph's arm covering as much of his skin as it could.

Bile raced up his throat, cutting up the inside of his neck and bringing water to his eyes. Donnie whimpered and swallowed it back knowing it would be worse if he puked completely. Puke always also came out his nose.

“These are waterproof, for bath and shower water,” Draxum said, raising another cutting from the red water. “Do not go into disgusting human pools with chlorine-”

Some part of his brain took control and got him out of there. A promise of days ago to never go back into a tentacle nest ever again. The world wasn't at stake here, just his arm. The choice was easily made and done with. Donnie would be having none of that cutting on his skin. Especially when he couldn't remove it. He chose his subway car to hide in, shoving himself into the back with his novels. A private little library he carved for himself as soon as he had his own car to customize. There he would curl with his hands clamped over his ears while breathing through the raw straw that was now his throat.

The door opened and off kilter footsteps dragged themselves in. The outside air put Donnie on edge, he had his windows close to keep his subway car still and peaceful. He hissed with his whole body. Sucking in a painful amount of air to let out a long sizzle from his library nook.

“Dude I'm just gonna kick my feet up,” Leo scoffed.

Donnie sucked in gallons of air and hissed again with his entire twitching anxious body. ‘GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY!’

There were so many other places Leo could hang out. Other beds to lay on. Donnie wasn’t stupid so he hissed again, even as he heard Leo drop onto his bed with a pained grunt.

“My student stole my room,” Leo complained, speaking like Donnie’s hisses were casual conversation. “Being a teacher is rough. My knee hurts so bad, nothing is wrong with it. I took the splint off because it's not broken- it just hurts when I bend it or put weight on it or think about it… or don't have it in a splint… maybe the splint should go back on. That seems like a lot of work though.”

Donnie was resigned to just keep hissing until Leo left. So he did. He did it breathlessly, sucking down air purely to hiss it out. Teeth bared and lips pulled up. His twin couldn’t pull him off the ledge this time, Donnie had to do it himself or topple over. Except Leo was in his room talking about himself, his injuries, in a way he hadn’t yet. Admitting something hurt in a vulnerable and open way. Despite himself Donnie stopped hissing and closed his mouth.

“Now when I think about it… it also hurts when I don't think about it,” Leo said, rubbing at his right knee. “Eugh. Do you think that’s a bad sign?”

Clearly Leo was trying to redirect Donnie. As much as Donnie wanted to hold on to his anger and little corner he was now tempted to answer Leo. He loosened the grip he had on his own skull. Everything was still a little too loud but it wasn’t making him feel worse.

“Hey, can you look at my knees and tell me which one looks swollen?” Leo asked. From his position he couldn’t have known Donnie moved his hands from his ears. He was laying on Donnie’s bed which was up against the side of the subway car and just outside the library nook. Donnie put his bed like that so he could see anyone poking their head in his room at night. “I mean, I’m sure I’m imagining it.”

Nardo downplaying an injury? Now he had to go put his dumb-dumb twin in his dumb-dumb place. With shaky limbs Donnie rose to his feet and walked rather mechanically to the side of his bed, snatching his glasses from his desk as he did so. Leo propped himself up with his left arm when Donnie stood up and didn’t look at him when he came over, instead he just looked at his legs.

Leo’s thighs were black on the outside. His shoulders too. The back of his hands were raw and his forearms were purple. His carapace was cracked down his left side but he wasn't acting like it. Why were the cuts and scrapes he received when they initially closed the portal nearly healed? Why did these injuries align themselves with someone who curled themselves into a ball and got beaten anyways? His shins, forearms, all but his inner thigh and inner calves blossoming with bruises. Broken open toe and fingernail beds. His small right arm mostly undamaged only because his prosthetic would have protected it. The metal arm itself was in Donnie's lab mangled and dented.

Oh and his right knee was a flesh balloon. “That's really swollen,” Donnie said, pointing to the leg that had no defined knee anymore. “What happened?”

“Oh I uh- I dislocated it.” He sounded disoriented.

Leo was determined to help Donnie but too sleep deprived to follow through. His brother wasn’t used to being caught neglecting his own health.

“When?” Donnie asked, or more so rasped. His throat was killing him and he hoped screaming during his meltdown two days ago would cover his tracks long enough.

“First when Casey and I got separated from you and Mikey,” Leo said, sitting and carefully pulling his legs to hang over the side of the bed. A clear invitation for Donnie to sit with him.

There was an issue with that, his cloaca really didn’t like the pressure down there and he wasn’t confident he could join Leo on the bed without making a noise or reigniting the tightness in his chest. He gambled with Leo’s lack of sleep and sat in seiza on the floor closer to the end of his bed.

“Remember my marvelous no retreating plan?” Leo asked, bouncing his knees. Donnie was so glad he chose the floor because sitting on a bouncing mattress would be agony. “Ha! Anyways! Casey popped it back in and it was fine,” Leo said, not finding it weird at all that Donnie picked the floor over the bed. Leo hung his head and set his left elbow on his shaking knee. Splint finger wiggling a little in pattern with the bouncing. He brought his left hand up to his small right hand and ran his fingers over his bandaged knuckles. His whole body jittered, he shook out his right arm. All the movement should be extremely painful but Leo barely reacted. “Uh, the second time I was in the prison dimension. But, since I saw how Casey did it I figured- pfshhhh, I can do that . I probably taught Casey how to do that. Which means future me taught past me something through Casey. I gotta get him into med school dude he could be an EMT. Seventeen isn't too old for med school? Crud at seventeen his life is practically over. Toss in the towel. I’ll probably never make it to seventeen.”

Donnie slowly inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. Later he would look up what Casey did for Leo online, then he would look into how one could ever perform it on themselves. Then he would settle on whether or not it was okay for Leo to put his knee back in place.

“No, he's a teenager. He should go to college. I think if I had a kid under my wing, in the apocalypse, and I sent him back in time to save the world and meet my stupid dumb sixteen year old self, I'd want him to go to college. Get that GED!” Leo cheered, pumping his fist. “But let him have a gap year. No academic burn out for my student-son, I kinda feel like there's more to that story. Like not to toot my own horn but maybe I was his Sensei in a father-figure way...”

“He seems smart,” Donnie said quietly. “Which would rule out him being raised by a Leo.”

“You wound me D,” Leo said, left hand splayed over his heart. “Hey, completely unrelated to everything and definitely not the reason I so expertly walked in here-,” (he had limped,) “-but remember when you pulled your shoulder and I convinced Raph to rob a pharmacy so I could snag prescription strength lidocaine patches? The ones that actually work?”

Before Albearto became evil (not Donnie’s fault!) he had done normal maintenance of the animatronic. It was a clunky thing made with steel and one day the straps holding the chest up snapped and Donnie scrambled to catch it. He strained the hell out of his left shoulder and heating pads weren’t cutting it. Over the counter lidocaine patches helped, but those prescription ones let him sleep through the night. A tidbit that his family really focused on for some reason. A month of shoulder exercises with an overbearing Raph and he avoided permanent injury. Silently Donnie realized getting good sleep was vital in that.

This was not a casual walk down memory lane and they both knew it. Donnie grimaced knowing full well what Leo was trying to do even though he looked close to falling over from sleep deprivation.

And pain. Leo had to be in agony but for some reason he was acting fine? It set off all sorts of alarm bells in Donnie's head.

“Your pained silence is agreement and because I know you remember everything,” Leo stated with a flutter of his left wrist making it crick and crack. “Anywizzle- Draxum left me with this homeopathic lidocaine patch from some, uh, Hidden City CVS , wow, nice name me, that really needs to go on your arm or else every time you use your mystic powers it's going to leak out of those fissures and get mystic discharge on everyone we fight and eughhhhh booooyyyy Raph is right we definitely need to change that word-”

“It's like the Technodrome,” Donnie blurted out, looking down at the top of his thighs. “I- it's wet and cold and-”

It grabs on. It doesn't let go. It doesn't stop.

“No. It's like a lidocaine patch,” Leo said, joining (crumbling?) to the floor in front of Donnie. That couldn’t have made any of those bruises happy or his swollen knee feel good. Leo giggled behind a clenched jaw. “And Raph and Mikey promised me that it feels amazing and numbs everything and brother I know your right arm is positively burning up.”

Donnie almost laughed. His right arm was actually the least of his concerns. His insides hurt the most. His cloaca hurt beyond what he could handle.

“Anyhow, I brought it with me. How about I just stick it on like the cold sticky lidocaine patch it basically is, then I'll take this leg of April's old tights and cover it and if April asks just lie because when I say old tights I mean the ones she let Mikey borrow last week. The ones she wanted back, probably.”

He pulled all these items from underneath Donnie’s pillow. The same trick he had for when Mikey needed a shot, loaded syringes hidden just out of sight before a surprise attack and an equally surprising apology.

Donnie could do this, and Leo had gone to all this effort to make up something he could pretend was happening. His sleep deprived and in pain twin more than deserved the win and Donnie could reason that treating his arm would take it off his mind. After a moment he carefully took his hoodie off and tossed it on the bed.

“Cool,” Leo said, walking over on his knees and pulling his medkit closer. Donnie knew that was where the lidocaine patch was hidden. “You just look over there because I don't want the lidocaine fumes to burn your eyes. And I'll do what I do best.”

It wasn’t easy. It was wet, slimy, and it moved but thank god Leo had no qualms about pretending to direct the Chrysophyceae Hirudinea cutting as if he was the one stretching it over Donnie’s arm. In a few places the cutting and Leo were not in sync but those moments were drowned out by all the ways Leo made it feel like the thing being attached to his arm wasn’t alive. Donnie still didn’t breathe until Leo was wrapping the plastered on cuttings with gauze.

“So basically Barry Drax-dumb said my life is the equivalent of four arms?” Leo asked, spindling Donnie’s right arm up and keeping the gauze in place with a small safety pin. “Kinda ironic given I pretty much only have one and a half.”

“I always knew you weren't worth very much,” Donnie muttered, head still turned to look over his shoulder at the door. “That's why I never tried to sell you.”

Leo laughed. “I'd be so annoying they'd return me for store credit you dick.” The leg from April’s tights was rolled up the length of his arm.

“All sales are final at time of purchase,” Donnie countered.

“You didn’t disclose how annoying I am therefore you falsely advertised your product and I smell a class action lawsuit coming your way,” Leo said, pinning the leg of the tights above Donnie’s bicep with another safety pin. “The poor sucker who bought me from your corrupt business deserves more than a refund. They need compensation for their pain.”

“Your existence will cause them pain and suffering?” Donnie asked, turning to examine his now daisy yellow arm.

Leo snapped his first aid kit shut with a flourish. “You just wait, I'm this generation's Lawn Darts.”